


almost all better now

by punkrockbadger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, post second war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2632376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockbadger/pseuds/punkrockbadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since James had been a baby, he'd always, when the option was available, sought out Ron for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	almost all better now

**Author's Note:**

> We all know Ron's a precious father figure and no one really writes him very much, so here you go.
> 
> My image of the Potter-Weasley-Granger kids post war is that the five of them are far more like five siblings who just coincidentally happen to live in two houses rather than a set of three and a set of two, partially because their parents are so close and partially because they all mesh really well, to the point where they hate being apart. They pretty much move between Ron and Hermione's and Harry and Ginny's in that group of five, which is good for the set of parents who don't have the kids and terrifying for the one that does.
> 
> Regardless, it means someone gets a break every once in awhile, and that's always a good thing?

Ever since James had been a baby, he'd always, when the option was available, sought out Ron for comfort.  
  
"Daddy Ron" was warm and caring and would carry him around, even when James was a little too big for it, just to prove that he still could. He always knew when to dig out the chess board and when to say something and when to just listen, and that is why James writes him first when they learn about the war.  
  
" _Dear Daddy Ron_ ", says the header of the letter, in shaky, spiky letters so unlike the calm, even handwriting Ron has received pages and pages of since the beginning of the school year, " _I'm scared_ ".  
  
And Ron rushes to the school over the weekend, tells Hermione he is working late, and finds the boy who might as well be his son sitting atop one of the ledges between the pillars edging the courtyard. Ron remembers doing the same himself, years and years before, and James reminds him of a young Harry in that moment, with his far off, worried look and too thin wrists sticking out from under the sleeves of a frayed green jumper. James looks scared, lonely, and every inch of him is a live wire. Ron does not miss the flinch when he sets a hand on his shoulder, because Ron hardly misses much, when it comes to his own.  
  
"What's shaking, baby boy?" Ron asks, and James turns to him with an almost pathetic whine and buries his face in Ron's chest. The eyes Ron sees, wide with confusion and burning with fear and soul deep sadness, before James hides his face in the folds of Ron's work robes, are Ginny's. "Hey now, it's alright. Good old Daddy Ron's here to fix everything."  
  
Ron has been Daddy Ron to all of Harry's children since he can remember, and it's gone both ways. His children call Harry and Ginny Daddy Harry and Mummy Ginny just like their kids do to him and Hermione, and the five of them, much like their four parents, never did get the hang of being without each other. Figures, he thinks, as James balls folds of Ron's robes up in his fists, that they sent the softest one out first by mistake.  
  
"Daddy _died_ and Mum got hurt and you and Mummy Mione have scars and--" James hiccups, cutting his statement off, and Ron squeezes his shoulder, which feels bonier than usual. James has inherited Harry's build, along with his dark brown skin, and always looks weak, at best, but that maybe be some lingering effect of his early arrival. Ron remembers being called by a worried sounding Harry on the afternoon of July 20th, eleven years ago, and being told that the baby was coming now rather than the late September they'd been promised. He remembers seeing the fragile little boy's body resting in Ginny's arms, tiny chest rising and falling just barely. It never fails to surprise him that the tiny baby he used to hold is now almost twelve and has been away at school for almost a year now. James was the physical manifestation of their hope, after years of darkness following the war, and the work that hope has done is plainly visible in the yellow and black tie knotted around James' neck. Ron couldn't be more proud if he tried. "It's scary cause you were all so scared and--"  
  
"Jamie, you couldn't have helped a thing. You were hardly even an idea yet." Ron rubs James' back in circles, and smiles slightly as James' breathing starts to settle into something resembling evenness. James has always been easy to comfort, unlike the others, not wanting for more than a hug or two. Much like Ron himself, at that age, really. "What matters is that everyone is here now and we're all happy and safe. And plus, we've all got a kind, caring little bugger like you, who gets sad about us suffering, what, fifteen years ago, for all the trouble."  
  
"Guess so." The crooked tilt of James' smile as he looks up is all Fred and George, and Ron has to laugh. "Crybaby Potter. That's me."  
  
"Nah, hardly that." Ron grins, patting James on the back. James' smile brightens a little, and Ron knows he's done his work. "You just care a little too much, like your dad. Like all of us, really."  
  
"I guess." James' words are a little stronger, a little more solid, and he nods. "It's all okay now?"  
  
Ron thinks back to nights as recent as a few months ago, when Hermione woke clutching her arm for the first time in years, and the children ran in, scared by the noise. Remus and Lily had ended up at their house somewhere along the line, and the four of them had climbed into the bed, clustering around Hermione like a group of puppies. Lily had kissed the scar, which was still angrily red all these years later, and chirped a declaration that it was all better now, which Hugo had echoed immediately.  
  
Ron remembers Harry waking in a cold sweat, remembers Ginny mumbling about a diary and feels his arms ache where the tentacles had bitten in deep.  
  
"It's not all the way okay. And I don't know if it'll ever be." He begins, remembering that he's talking to an eleven year old. James, for all his solemnity, is still a child, and some things are not to be told to children. "But we're all getting better. And you can help by being you and not being too worried for us. I know you're still iffy about being a Puff, but it suits you."  
  
"The Gryffindors don't like me." James says, nearly whispering as he wrings his hands. "Lots of them say I think I'm too good for them."  
  
"Well, they're bloody losers and you'll show them who's the top dog here, won't you?" Ron ruffles James' hair. "Weasley men fight hard. You've got a legacy to live up to."  
  
"Uh huh", James smiles softly. "A big, long one of being an arse to girls you like."  
  
"Language." Ron frowns dramatically, shaking a finger. "Your mum'll kill me if she finds out I taught you that."  
  
"Which one?" James asks teasingly.  
  
"Both." Ron says, rolling his eyes, and the resulting peals of laughter are proof enough that maybe this boy just needs a little extra to get along and that Ron shouldn't be too afraid to give it.


End file.
